Stand In The Rain
by lilpumpkingirl
Summary: MoMo twins- twins who spent 8 to 13 days as one being before splitting. Together they have a bond that is so profound and mysterious one would almost say it's supernatural. Follow Ruby and her twin Lucy as they discover the connection between their dreams, the deaths shaking Magnolia and the nightmares of their past. Can they survive the darkness or is it already too late for one?


_This was once called Double Trouble but inspiration from a song by Superchick with the same name as the new title and heavy editing of the first chapter I've decided to repost this story. Also due to the altering and darker details the rating has been changed to M. Over all, this story is a thriller mystery with a hint of horror and I will be describing topics such as murder and rape and death. You've been warned and I strongly urge those under fifteen to not read this._

- The Call -

I stood, alone in a tavern, one you might see in an old spaghetti western. Slowly I pivoted, taking the whole room in. Stained wooden floor planks and peanut shells crunched beneath my bare feet, benched tables lined in rows piled high with steaming food on either side, and a dark mahogany bar off to the right with rows of bottles of various shapes and sizes and colors lined the wall behind - all of it coming together, completing the odd scene. The place was dim and dingy. Cast iron lacrima light fixtures swung above, their off orange hue catching festive streamers and garlands that dangled from the ceiling and walls. Red and gold flashes in an otherwise dull monotony of brown.

The few windows didn't help with the creeping feeling of darkness. If anything it made it worse as I could see nothing more than an inky void beyond their staring empty sockets. They leered at me with a darkness that swallowed what little light and warmth the room held. There was no smell to this place either. Strange given how used it appeared with the food, stains and smashed peanuts, and the carving etched into every wooden surface with names or phrases like _'Billy was here' _or the more childish _'Boobies 're gret!' _and _'Is room spinning yet? If not, you're not drinking enough!' _

Other than physically being there, it was like I observed the tavern through a glossy TV screen. From memories alone knowing I should smell the ale, the sweat, and the ever faint stench of acidic vomit that had soaked into the wood planks and could never be completely rid of. Or the flavorful scents of the steaming piled food - of rosemary roast, tangy BBQ ribs, and earthy corn on the cob. But there was nothing. All of it missing and empty and telling my instincts something was not right.

_Where am I? _The thought was hazy in my mind. A part of me recognized this place, yet knew not the name or why I was there. I only knew that something had summoned me.

There was a distant _tink_'ing noise, like mugs clashed together. Followed shortly with all the other sounds one would expect from a busy tavern, mumbled voices, laughter and shouts. I heard them all and yet I felt like my ears were stuffed with cotton. I spun around. People were _here_. I could hear them but couldn't see them. Why couldn't I see them? I wanted to open my mouth, to call out and draw their attention, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out. Just a puff of air, nothing more.

"Lucy, are you alright?" a female's voice broke through the drone of sounds. It was familiar but I couldn't place a name or face to the voice.

"I'm totally fine!" I replied suddenly with a smile, flashing a thumbs up to the girl I couldn't see. "In fact, this has pumped me up even more!"

I shook myself. Breaking my body out of the movement and stepped away, from what I don't know. The girl's giggle sounded softly, her voice merging and blending, becoming dull with the rest of the far-away noises. _"Where... Carla?" "It's not man to lose!" "...you hit ever tavern..." "My lovely Gray!"_ Pieces of dialogue reached me, fragmented and disjointed, giving me no sense of context. And yet I couldn't shake the feelings of familiarity. I knew these voices. I knew this place and even had this sense of déjà vu.

Shadowed outlines of people, wispy and faint, popped up around me. Nothing more than gray smudges to me in this dull tavern. Then one grew more defined, a figure that stood close and became more detailed with each passing second. They were a half a foot taller, arms crossed behind their head of colorless spiky hair. The dark purple shirt-coat lined in white, one sleeve purposely missing and revealing a toned arm with a red symbol on the bicep. A thick muffler wrapped around his neck. He. A young man I knew, flashed me a lop-sided smile.

My heart fluttered.

That one smile. That was all it took. Alone it chased the dark sinister feelings I had to the far corners of my mind. Still there, but couldn't scare me.

I smiled back.

He became a light in the dim room, his pink spiky hair, wide smile, and glinting emerald-onyx eyes. My hope and pillar of strength when everything seemed so bleak. As long as he was here, by my side, nothing was wrong. I could overcome anything.

He winked at me before averting his gaze to a small shadow standing on the table. I followed his gaze, the older man's voice reaching me. "Today's defeat is the seed to tomorrow's victory. Let's rise up!" I felt the young man's arm loop around my shoulders, pulling me close. "Cause we fairies don't know the meaning of the words 'give up'! Let's aim for number one!"

Even distant as the sounds were in my cotton stuffed ears, the room exploded with cheering and laughter. The loudest being my boisterous friend, his voice unfiltered as he smashed me close to his body. His body heat came off in miniature waves of simmering heat that made me warm and giddy. I giggled, placing my hand on his chest. His unique scent of smoke and camp fires surrounded me - the first scent I smelt of this place.

A flurry of sounds, smells, and colors flooded my senses. For a brief moment I knew everything. I was happy. I was safe with the man who was my partner, my best friends, and the one I secretly wished was more.

Then these thoughts vanished.

The windows shattered, exploding inward with a rush of arctic wind. It lashed at my body and whipped the ends of my golden hair. I froze, hand fisting his shirt, my owl wide eyes staring at the jagged glass that hung in the air, slowly spinning and glinting in the dim light. The inky void beyond was an ebony thick fog that steadily poured into the room, dropping to the floor and pooling at the edges. The cheering and laughter continued, the people unknowing or uncaring. A look around and to my friend, it seemed it was the former. They didn't know. How could they not know? How could they not see this dark fog that gobbled up the shadowed outlines closest to the walls?

I trembled. The fear that I'd pushed away returning.

"Natsu!" I wanted to cry out but it came only as a whimper.

Chilled air funneled around us and the off orange lights swinging above dimmed with the increasing dark fog that devoured and gorged more of the shadows. Tears welled, eyes stinging as my heart ached for those lost. The nameless, faceless people I knew but couldn't remember. I tugged at the fabric clenched in my hand and I said his name again.

No answer.

The sounds of cheering and laugher grew fainter. More were consumed and the dark fog crept and creeped closer and closer. It inched up the walls and clung to the ceiling. Surrounding us in twisted slithering darkness. I felt the cold, becoming stronger than the warmth from my friend. His comforting scent slowly vanished as a metallic stench and dank musk of death wafered on the chilled wind.

"Natsu?!"

I turned my head, painfully slow in my fear addled mind to find my friend all but a rotting corpse. Mostly skinless as strips of yellow crisping flesh hung limp on festering meaty muscle and white bone. Jelly red blood trickled like cold molasses from his hollow white rimmed sockets and the black void inside.

He opened his mouth to speak. "Lucy... What's wrong?" I couldn't comprehend the words as wiggling maggots tumbled out and onto me.

I screamed and screamed. Yanking myself away and stumbling back and away, the fall jarring as I landed on my back. His bone fingers came up, as if in a calming gesture. I screamed even harder. The pounding of my heart filled my ears as I skirted back in an awkward crab walk. My vision blurred. Salty warmth streaking down my cheeks. I covered my ears with my hands and closed my eyes from the image. Wishing it wasn't real. Praying that this... thing... wasn't him. Not my Natsu. It couldn't be him. He couldn't ever die.

My light.

My pillar of strength.

The arctic wind grew, swirling around me. It bit at me. Snarled and growled with a sinister rumble.

Then ceased.

A pale light shined above me, cutting through the darkness. I opened my eyes. My friend and the old tavern were gone. Replaced with an abandoned warehouse, brick walls, countless murky and broken windows where moon light streamed in fractured and scattered. Around me the dark thick fog from before hung to the shadows. Shaking I shifted, legs curled on the ground in my sanctuary of pale ringed moonlight. Faintly I heard soft sobs. Feminine and weak. They came from my left. I didn't open my mouth to call out. I couldn't.

Instead I got up, first crouching on the balls of my feet, then inching upwards. I took a hesitant step and another and another, pausing at the ring of moonlight before continuing. The dark fog parted, revealing a huddled mass in the corner of the warehouse, hands bond behind, blonde hair matted with mud and blood and a once flashy bright Versace shirt torn and stained, her skirt no better. She lay on her side, in the fetus position. I stopped three feet away. Something pink and frilly by my foot. I dared not think of what it was least I go mad with knowledge.

Her blue eyes opened, wild and frantic when a door somewhere to my left in the darkness and fog creaked open. I was rooted where I stood. Those wild eyes focused on me and yet not seeing me.

"H-Help me," the girl whimpered almost soundless in the musky air, "Please God, someone... Help me."

Tears fell silently from those haunted, terrified blue eyes. I found myself crying with her. There was a yank on my conscious and I fell into those wide eyes. My whole being sucked in until I was those eyes. I felt her mind numbing fear as the door slammed shut and heavy echoing footsteps came closer. I felt the pain from where the rope rubbed her wrists raw, the stinging scuffs on her knees and the bruises on her arms. I felt the bone chilling concrete beneath her.

Her body trembled.

I trembled.

I told my limbs to move, to do something, anything. Nothing. Not even my fingers twitched. Panic swept through me. My eyes flailed about. Whites big and iris black, like a skittish horse as a pack of wolves closed in for the kill. Only it was one wolf, the alpha.

The footsteps came closer, from somewhere above my sideways head. I couldn't see. I couldn't see _him_. But I knew those footsteps, uneven, as if he had a gimp, a small scuffle as he dragged his foot, unable to pick it up, and then dragged it behind uslessly. I refused to close my eyes, my heart rattling like the wings of a humming bird. He was so close. Too close. What was he going to do? What was he going to do to me this time?

He stopped.

The black shape of his legs at the edge of my vision.

The seconds stretched on endless in the night. My head spun. Flaking slights spinning and swirling before my eyes. My lungs screamed for air and I let go of the breath. It hissed through my clenched teeth. Wobbly and shaking. Oh God! What did he want? What could he want to do that he hadn't already done? I jerked as something clicked. A weak, mustard light flared and illuminated little around me. He took a few puffing breaths, then with a heavy sigh the scent of smooth scotch infused tobacco with lingering hint of caramel weighed over me. Wispy white smoke licking at my hair and face. I coughed.

He snapped the lighter shut.

I flinched.

Puffing and exhaling.

More wispy smoke blew my face.

I whimpered.

I could feel his eyes on me. Those demented eyes watching me with a perverse sort of pleasure. Why wasn't he doing anything? _God why is he just standing there? _I wanted to scream at him - to ask him these things. I wanted to cower - to hide away from him. His nightmare. I wanted... I wanted to live. So bad I wanted to live. Max, my little brother with brown hair and freckles. My stern but loving parents. God, my parents! I yelled at my mother for being smothering hours before... No it was days? A week?

_So stupid. Selfish. Why'd I go out? Why? Why? Why_?

My vision blurred. Salty warmth.

He tisked. I cringed. The disgust and contempt in that one sound alone make me shudder. What happen to his precious? The delicate caressing of words as he petted me. Held me. Mounted me and _'loved me' _as he would say. They were all gone as a frozen hand jabbed into my hair and I cried out. The sound desolate as it echoed. It hurt. Hurt so much as the grip yanked at my tender scalp. _I want to live! _My shoulder and side scraped against the ground. His gimp pronounced, scuffle step, scuffle step, scuffle step. The wispy white of scotch and caramel trailed behind him like a train in the dead of night.

_I want to live! _

With a grunt he shoved a door open. It wailed on its hinges. Down the stairs, each short fall biting and harsh. I screamed at each harsh drop. The sounds feeble, little more than shrills from a frightened mouse. Another door slammed open, the stairs stopped. Something wet was beneath me. I slid easily behind him. Scuffle step, scuffle step, scuffle step. The metallic stench that crashed into me, not overpowering the white smoke but mingling with it. With a sharp pain he threw me on a cold steel table. Then moved away._ I want to live!_ My eyes fluttered, head tilting right.

I found milky eyes staring back.

I tried to move, to yell, to fight, to scream. But I was paralyzed by those unseeing eyes. Those milky eyes that belonged to a thin, fragile face of a once beautiful girl. Blonde hair dry, the color of lifeless straw. Her mouth, open forever in a silent scream no one would hear. He moved on my other side, unseen. Clanking of metal and puffs of air. His silhouette stood above me, flashing silver, in one hand and wispy white in the other.

"Scream pretty for me," his voice smooth and cold.

_Oh God no! Please no! Live, I want to live!_

My heart, and the pounding in my ears, stopped. I did scream. A strangled inhuman shriek that tore from my raw throat as he leaned closer and closer. The black depths of his silhouette all I could see and the glint of silver. I fell into him, fell into the darkness, in one never-ending shrill.

Until...

A mass jumped on my chest, purring and meowed. It butted my head, moping and moping until the darkness behind my eyes bled out to a blinding pale glow.

And suddenly, I was in my studio apartment, lying amongst a twisted mess of sheets with my blue cat Happy peering over me. His eyes wide and glinting gray, forehead furrowed - though how a cat could furrow their brows let alone look concerned, I didn't know. I panted, tossing my sweaty arm over my head and turned my head right, facing the pale light. My blinds were somehow open. I'd closed them before going to bed. Right? Either way there was the cloudless sky, and the moon. A pale ghost moon ringed in a shimmering silver light that glared down at me.

I shivered.

The moon. For a moment I saw it through shattered, murky windows and framed by bricks. I blinked. The image gone. Swallowing, I turned my head away and looked around my studio, at the concert posters of rock bands on the walls of what was considered my room and stacks of CD and books, so many books piled by the wall and on my five buck yard sale desk that needed two bricks to stay up right, dividing the room before the junk TV that hardly ever worked and a patch-work couch. I took comfort in the familiarity. It was my room. My place. I was safe.

I eyed my alarm clock to my left on the end table. 3:47am blared in the dimness with a bright harsh red glow. The observation was hazy, like I wasn't quite in my own body. My cat bumped my chin with the top of his head, bringing my attention back to him. I brought my other arm up and scratched his head.

"Just a dream," I told him, though it was more to steady myself. "Just another stupid dream."

It was a dream now, wasn't it?

With my cat, in the warmth of my bed, and what meager objects I owned surrounding me the memory of the dream crumbled like a cookie with too little egg and butter. Decaying into bits and pieces where the more I tried to recall, the more I came up blank. Everything blank other than that gods awful feeling of dread and terror that stuck tight, latching onto the shadowy corners of my mind like goopy molasses. I shook my head, hoping to dislodge the horrid feeling.

It didn't work.

I scowled at the ceiling, opting to feel frustration instead of the fear. Getting anymore sleep was pointless wasn't it? There was no way I could get back to sleep with this twisted dark feeling that if I closed my eyes I might not open them again. My heart still thudded in my chest. Sweat soaking the sheets and making my short blonde hair stick to my face. I felt sticky... and icky. Like blood and tears.

I shivered again.

Then I cursed softly, rubbing my eyes. It was going to be another _fantastic_ day. Note my sarcasm. I have a dry, borderline dark sense of humor. Or so my co-worker and few smidgen of friends tell me. You may too if you'd been dealt the shitty cards life's tossed my way, especially this last year. Sort of thing happens to a girl who's hit rock bottom and forced to hide in a grimy hole dug by her own battered bleeding hands. These dreams... nightmares... whatever they were. I chocked them up to ghostly gremlins of those hellish three months yanking me back and reminding me I'm still a frail little girl flinging a tiny twig back and forth against the mangy snarling Rottweiler that was the world. It liked to sneak up and bite me when I wasn't paying attention. Like days I woke up like this... the phrase_ 'what could go wrong does go wrong'_ fitted perfectly on the days I woke up like this.

My cat nudged my unmoving hand on his head. I continued petting, bringing my other hand back above my head. Fear of the darkness behind my lids made me not want to keep my eyes closed long.

"I'm okay."

Happy opened one eye, watching me. Yeah, I didn't believe me either.

I kept scratching behind his ears, puffy blue cheeks, and under his chin, trying to distract myself from the lingering terror by wondering about my odd companion. I don't know why I called him Happy. For the longest time I simply called him _'cat'_ or _'shitty-cat'_, which I often still did because I knew it irritated him. I swear he even rolled his eyes once and gave this hissing noise that sounded like a low grumble. There are other oddities besides his hair color and human-like expressions. Like randomly taking baths. I don't think I've ever seen him use the litter box by the garbage can in the kitchen... At least I've never had to change it. He also refuses to eat anything but fish. Mighty picky cat if I do say so.

His loud purrs rumbled down into my chest, calming me, chasing away the terror. I smiled fondly at him, my ever vigilant guard kitty. Or _"guardtom, better than any dog in Fiore State"_, as Milliana, one of those said friends and also co-worker, liked to joke. His purring increased, a small motorboat sound filling the silence. His head tilted up as I scratched under his chin. A blue haired cat... who ever heard of that? I certainly hadn't until this fury lug appeared outside the window of my boss's house nine or so months back when I lived there, meowing pitifully in the rain.

And let me just say, I know we call it a _'meow'_ because it sounds similar, but I have never heard a cat actually... well... perfectly pronounce meow like they were saying it.

Not until him at least.

I propped myself up on my right elbow and bent close to him, rubbing my nose and cheek into the warmth of his neck. Then I shifted him off to the side and sat up, stretching, arms over my head and a large yawn that cracked my jaw. With a sigh, I let my arms fall and glanced at him as he sat there staring in that freakish way he usually did. It's hard to explain. But when I stare back into those big gray eyes, I don't feel like I'm staring at a cat. It really does feel like he's human. I feel intelligence and thoughts behind those glossy eyes, hidden because I don't speak cat. Though with some of his looks, I wish I did - speak cat that is.

Like now. His brows were drawn down, gray eyes searching my face with a hint of sadness. It was as if the weight of the world was on his little shoulders and he'd give anything to open his mouth and talk to me. Tell me it was okay.

I bit my lip and averted my gaze to my hands, the pink fairy insignia on the back of my right hand that I got the drunken night after graduation looking awfully interesting. No. Scratch that. It only brought up bitter painful memories of friends I used to know and my sister. I refused to think of the other memories it also tugged at. Ones that plunged me into darkness and nightmares. My pulse quickened, chest tightening and it became difficult to breathe.

Raw terror heated my blood. The sort that only comes from the real fears that haunt this world and not some fake movie induced scare. It threatened to swallow me in a blind maddening fright.

I closed my eyes. Then I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. Just like Kagura, my boss, my savior from the darkness and nightmare taught me. In... and out. In... and out. My chest loosened and my frantic heart slowed. The fear slipped away. _"You must not fear," _her voice filled my mind and I smiled as I pictured her before me in her black gi. This short little Japanese-American with silky black hair and dark brown eyes that almost appeared black, glaring with such ferocity that mountainous men seven feet tall shied away from her. _"Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. You must face your fear." _ It was funnier because she was so small and pretty. Not to mention she took it from a movie - Dune - and made it her own like everything else she did. _"Own these fears, only then will you overcome them and make them your sharpened blade against likened fears that should ever try and ail you."_

I opened my eyes, intently staring at my pink fairy tattoo. A dank cellar, of cobwebs and of blood swam before my eyes. I cringed, looking away as I swung my legs over the side of the bed, facing the closed door of my bathroom. _Own my fears? I still have a ways to go it seems. _

I wiggled my toes on the cream carpet. Innocent cool air from the vent below my bed brushed against my calves but for a few seconds my imagination went ramped and I feared looking down to see a ghoulish decaying green hand with yellow torn nails reaching out. I jumped to my feet and shook my head, swiftly walking to my bathroom only to find myself hesitate on grabbing the handle.

"Oh for the love of..." I grumbled, jerking it open.

The darkness beyond had my heart skip irrationally before I flicked on the light. I blinked, the bright lights leaving spots in my vision and muttered curses at my skittishness. This wasn't me. I'd become stronger, hadn't I? I went to the mirror, searching my face for any blazing signs of crazy. Nope. No crazy in my brown eyes flaked with the color of warm honey. I did look like crap though. My cheeks were ashen, dry trails of salty tears and red rimmed eyes with puffy purple bags underneath. I'd cried in my sleep again, just great.

To complete this wonderful look was the rats-nest of golden hair that usually hung just beneath my jaw, now it stuck up every which way and that. In all honesty, I didn't look much different than any other morning before my five cups of coffee kicked in. Only difference was the tears and darker purple under my eyes. I leaned forward, palms pressing flat against the cold surface of the counter. I glared at myself.

"Ruby," I growled out at my reflection, "Get your skinny white bitch ass out of this funk. Fear is pointless. You know this! So why you letting it get to you? Are you going to cower from your own shadow next?"

I sounded like Cana. I rolled my eyes and turned away, muttering sarcastically, "Great pep talk self. We should do them more often."

I went to the bath tub and started the water, shedding my sweaty shorts and oversized Metallica t-shirt into a careless pile on the tiled floor. Early mornings weren't my thing. I'm not a morning person, period, and even with my coffee fix I'm temperamental and moody. I never did mornings - even before my life turned on its head. That was my sister, the always up with the first ray of sunlight, bubbly and cheerfully sweet it made your teeth hurt. Luckily Kagura understood this; let me work afternoon and nights at her cafe and our other jobs usually required the dark of night anyway.

Last night was my day off. And now, here I was up just before four am and wouldn't see my bed again until after I closed at two... the next morning. It was going to be a long day and I dreaded the thought of what else could possibly go wrong as I sank into the steaming water. A pleasant hiss escaped my lips and I rested my head back, closing my eyes. You're probably wondering why a cafe is open at night. Well, you could say we are a special cafe... What with a name and catch phrase like _Madam Webs Cafe - gothic fantasy served with a pinch of wicked_, one has to wonder. It probably should be called a short-order bar, but Kagura said the cafe makes it classier.

I don't see it. We dress as in skimpy dark clothes. Serve rowdy men -and girls- that ogle us like meat and slapped my ass. Mostly orders are for alcohol, though mornings and afternoons there is a rather big tea crowd. We have a bouncer like other bars. We serve greasy fat foods after four, and we usually have drunken fistfights after eight.

All I have to say is, if it waddles like a duck, quacks like a duck and acts like a duck - then by golly it's a fucking duck.

If there is a difference between your normal bars and Madam Webs, then it's we get all types. Fat and thin. Rich and poor. Race is checked at the door. We especially excel with the crazy and just plain... strange. Those odd outcasts and socially awkward who wouldn't dare step foot in a normal bar are oddly right at home with us as they sulk in their dark corners and mope about their mopy lives with other mopsters. The norms, as we call them, tend to stick to the center bar top and more lighted areas. That doesn't mean the crazy, the strange, and the norms don't mix. Happens a lot actually. I tell you, the craziest night I had was when I served a hipster, a goth girl, a college football jock, and a little old granny who happened to be knitting booties for a grandkid. By the time two am came goth girl had the hipster sobbing a sad story between heated make-out sessions and the football guy was hitting on the granny who made him this _"spectacular hat dude"_.

I snorted, fighting the smile on my lips. I'd only worked at Madam Webs for four months, man the stories I had... You wouldn't know whether to laugh, cringe in disgust, or cry from the melodramatics of it all. All the same I found myself liking the place. It had grown on my much like the gothic dress code had - much to Kagura's horror and my co-workers amusement.

I sighed. I moved my leg up and out of the water, watching as the liquid trailed down my smooth leg. Then I rubbed it. It was still good for another day before I'd have to shave again. My hand trailed on a scar near my ankle. Ugly and jagged with uneven criss-crosses that spoke of the unprofessional stitching some nice druggie girl did. It would be there forever, reminding me of her and how she saved my life that night. Along with other such scars that marred what I've been told is a body most girls dreamt of - wholesome Swedish-like good looks, smooth skin, and naturally golden hair. All I was missing was the height (I'm 5'5) and bright (certainly not brown) eyes.

I didn't see the attraction. Sure, I was thin and had curves in _"all the right places"_ as guys say. But to me the massive bust got in the way more often than not and was a real pain on the back. That, and those same guys leer and can't seem to keep their sweaty mitts to themselves. Not only is it disgusting being gawked at like I'm walking around naked when I'm in fact fully clothed but it's dangerous. The world wasn't all sparkles and unicorns with beautiful princesses being saved by their saintly princes and living happily ever after. The world was dark and gritty. Full of men who prowled on those innocent beautiful princesses, pilfering that spark of hope and light and all that's good, forever twisting their dreams into nightmares.

I wished I could have been born just some plain Jane who never had to know the terror of being beautiful and weak.

Closing my eyes, I let my right leg join the other back under the hot water. My fists clenched as my arms rested on the rim of the tub. I opened my eyes, least I start reliving memories better left in the dark shadows of my mind, watching instead the steam lazily float up. I was strong, wasn't I? I'd certainly come far. Endured and survived. But was that enough?

"DUH... DUH... DUH...DUN-DA-DUN, DUN-DA-DUN."

I nearly jumped out of my skin as the Star Wars theme for the evil Darth Vader sounded from my cell on my end table by my bed. My head hit the back of the tub and a sting of colorful curses followed. It didn't help my mood that it was this ring tone. It was saved for one person and one person only. Someone I really wish Cana hadn't given my number too seeing as I wasn't exactly on speaking terms with them. Hadn't been since this certain someone and our best friend hooked up in the back of _my _car days after I told her I had feelings for him and was going to ask him to prom. She didn't know or need to know that I actually had asked him to prom and that he had kissed me before shacking up with her. I knew the guilt of knowing I had planned to and told her was enough.

I rose, water splashing over the sides in my haste. Stepping out my wet foot slipped, tweaking my ankle before I caught myself on the counter and bruising my hip on the door-jam as I stumbled out of the bathroom and too my bed. What did I say? What could go wrong did go wrong! I fumbled with the blue _GalaxyS III _and swiped my password, glaring at the caller id.

_Little Lu._

My twin sister. Dear sweat, little Lucy, ever so innocent - a classic princesses with all those castles and unicorns. She was the one to borrow my car and sleep with our best friend, Natsu, my only crush, and was currently dating him. It would be a lie if I said I wasn't slightly bitter over that. But it was more because of the choices I made after it happened than them being together. Stupid, idiotic and life threatening choices, but my choices nevertheless. I swiped the green accept and put it to my ear.

"What is it?" I grumbled.

There was a startled silence, as if she hadn't thought I'd answer. "S-Sis... sister?" A sob tore from her throat and my protective hackles reared.

"Who hurt you?" I sneered darkly, hand tightening on the phone. "I'll kill him if that moronhurt you."

She choked, again startled by my reaction. Happy sat up, staring at me in all my naked glory as I burned holes into the skull emblem of my _Avenged Sevenfold _poster by the widow. Then she broke down, a strangled tearful moan that sounded less like her crying for herself and more like fear and pain for another. Either one shouldn't have been associated with my sister.

"Lucy," I softened my voice, realizing I wasn't going to get anywhere with my rough and in-your-face attitude. "Take a deep breath and tell me what happened."

She obeyed, taking a slow shaky breath in and then out.

"I was stupid, RuRu," she started slowly, barely a whisper, only to become frantic as the words spilled out from her mouth, "I've been having these... dreams. Strange dreams. Ever since you left. I thought they were tied to you but then Cana told me you were okay and then I heard your voice and you were okay but not okay at the same time. You wouldn't talk to me and I couldn't exactly face you either. I thought the dreams would stop with that, and they did. I ignored what I'd dreamt and even forgot it for a few months, but then a few weeks ago they started again, more detailed and... I-I'm scared, RuRu. I don't k-know if I'm going crazy or what a-and... It's Natsu. I dragged him into it, my problems with the dreams and now he's hurt. God, there was so much blood." Her whimpering sob was muffled, hand probably covering her mouth. "He's hurt because of me, Ruby. What if he dies?"

There was a small squeak before she completely broke down into what sounded like body quaking sobs.

I stared at my poster, my heart oddly slow and steady. Was I in shock? No. My thoughts still worked. First being Natsu truly was a dim-witted hot-head. How could he allow Lucy to get into trouble like this? Trouble that got him so hurt? Then there was this brief odd disconnect. Natsu. Our best friend, my first crush, and the guy I loved and had my heart torn out of my chest over and led me to make so many horrible choices... Was in danger of dying? Well now, I don't know if my sister was being melodramatic. She did have tendencies, but never over something this serious. Then again we both went a little crazy when Natsu's involved. And yet... I wasn't going crazy hearing he might be knocking on death's door. Weird. I was troubled. Worried certainly, but not afraid or breaking down into hysterics like Lucy currently was. It wasn't because I thought he couldn't die. This past year taught me no one was immune to death. But it was like... I don't know. And I guess these thoughts were more than brief.

"Breath, sis." I stat on my bed next to my cat and petted his head and coached her, "In and out, that's it. Now tell me, what hospital are you at? You are at a hospital, right? I hope you didn't just call me instead of the cops."

A strangled laugh that sounded on the verge of a sob came through the speaker. "H-He's in sur-surgery now. St. Anne's downtown. I-I didn't..."

"Breathe. Take your time."

There were a few slow shaky breaths. "Ash called the cops. Saved us. H-He stayed with us until the police and ambulance came."

I frowned, forehead wrinkling as I puzzled over the guy's name and silently mouthed it to myself. Did I know an Ash? No, I don't think I did.

"Okay... that's good, Lucy. What about Natsu? What sort of wounds did he have that made him so bloody?"

She didn't answer right away, keeping up with the slow breaths.

"A-A stab wound. I..." She sniffled. "I think Ash said it missed anything important b-but... there was just so much blood."

I sighed. Knowing this Ash guy or not, I had a feeling he was a better judge than my sister currently was.

"Then he'll be okay, sis. Some places are like head wounds, they look bad and bleed hella'lot but they're harmless." Unfortunately I knew a lot about wounds. She must have heard the confidence in my tone, her trembling breaths stopped. "Now call Erza. I'll be there in an hour, two hours tops. Okay?"

"Please be careful," she whispered.

"I will." Licking my lips, I hesitated, "Are you better now? Can I hang up?"

"Y-Yeah. Thank you, RuRu. I love you."

I rolled my eyes. Natsu gets a minor scratch and now she's all mushy and dramatic.

"Right back at 'cha, sis."

I swiped end, then stared at my cell for a few seconds.

"Well shit..." Huffing, I flopped back onto my messy bed uncaring that I was getting the bed wet having not toweled off. "I'm going back."

I covered my eyes with my free hand. Small termers in my fingers. I swallowed down the bile the churned in my stomach and crept up my throat. Back. I was going back. Was I even ready? Better yet, would Kagura allow it? The bed shifted, Happy moving closer, his cold nose touched my side, just below another scar. Not as nasty as the one on my ankle, but noticeable. I brought the hand covering my eyes down and petted him. A low purr rumbled from him, comforting me. There was no better way to test myself other than facing my fears head on and going back, now was there? Hell, Kagura might drive me herself if she had to.

I sighed heavily, propping myself up on my elbows to look at my silly blue cat.

"You ready to see where I grew up and meet the gang?"

He tilted his head. Was that a smile tugging at his whiskered lips? His purrs grew louder.

"Of course you are... _you _have nothing to be afraid of." I groaned, flopping back and refusing to see whatever strange human-like look he gave me. My mind swarmed with all the what-if and dangers. Could I really go back? It couldn't possibly be as easy as jumping in my car and driving. Not when the journey out of that city nearly killed me as did those hellish three months that followed. It couldn't possibly be that easy.

His fury head butted my side. I eyed him from my reclined position. His concerned look was so familiar I didn't question it. I could only smile softly at him, warmed by the small critter who had entered my life and refused to leave my side. No matter where I went, even if little furry critters like him weren't supposed to be there. If there was a will there was a way and Happy was very willful.

"Right, I'll have my ever watchful guard kitty to watch my back." I sat up, set my hand on his head and pumped my other fist in the air. "We can do this, yes we can!"

Man, I felt silly and childish. Happy must have thought the same because he snorted.

"Stuff it, you shitty-cat!"

~~~~.~-~.~~~~

_What did I change in this chapter? The progression of the story is more or less the same but very few words/sentences remain of the original. Progressing through the story where I've written part of chapter five, I realized that I needed to bring up a few names and hint at a few issues long before I did so it didn't seem like I was just thinking of them. Which I sort of was... I also wanted to bring out the darker feeling of this story and add more details that fleshed out Ruby's character and her troubles. In this she's not so abrasive when talking to Lucy (I used way too many curse words. Something I knew I shouldn't have done but did anyways cause I was being lazy), and hopefully now acts like how an older tough persona sibling should. _

_Anyway, I hope this gathers more attention than the last version. I will admit, the original two versions of the first chapter weren't my greatest. I think I was just too excited to start the story... Whatever. Reviews! I love reviews! Tell me what you think, what works or what doesn't work. I really need to know!_


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